


Lock and Collar

by Star (docfics)



Series: New Territory [2]
Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Additional Tags to Be Added, M/M, Master/Pet, Petplay, Polyamory, Sex Toys, Sticky Sexual Interfacing, aft play
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-20
Updated: 2019-07-31
Packaged: 2020-07-28 06:11:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,908
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20059339
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/docfics/pseuds/Star
Summary: Rodimus, Starscream, and Drift have all accepted Megatron's proposal to try a new lifestyle. Now they just have to overcome the challenges associated with it. Things like working together, learning to communicate...and Brainstorm's wild sex toys.





	Lock and Collar

Megatron was feeling antsy.

It had been a week since he and his bonded had first discussed their future lifestyle, and they had yet to speak about it in full again. Starscream had been called away to help the Council, Drift had to finish tweaking part of the program at his rehab clinic, and Rodimus jumped back and forth between all three of them—with frequent bar outings on the side.

Another day not approaching the topic would only bring disappointment, so Megatron decided he wouldn’t wait any longer. He sent a comm off to Rodimus that simply asked “Are you sober?” as he began walking towards the mech’s current location.

It was but a handful of nanoseconds before he got a reply.

>Rodi: yeah

>Rodi: im just doing some figure eights outside the city

>Rodi: why? you wanna…? ;)

Megatron fondly reset his optics, because of  _ course _ Rodimus would try for that, despite Megatron never sending such vague comms if he wanted something of that nature.

>Megatron: No.

>Megatron: I was hoping you'd accompany me to Brainstorm’s lab.

>Megatron: To get...toys.

He figured bringing Rodimus along would make the whole situation a little easier; a little less awkward. Brainstorm’s feelings towards him were...complicated--and vice versa--and Perceptor wasn’t particularly fond of him. But they had (begrudgingly, he suspected) told Rodimus and Drift they could bring their Decepticon partners to their conjunxing ceremony. And—to everyone’s surprise—they had all ended up having a good time.

Plus, Megatron had seen some of the… _ work _ Brainstorm had done on the Lost Light, which confirmed that he was the best mech to ask for help.

Hopefully, a generous offer of shanix and doubling down on the flattery would get him what he needed. And throwing Rodimus into the mix wouldn’t hurt, either. If he got  _ really _ lucky, maybe they’d even remember the flame-retardent datapads he’d got them as a gift for their celebrated bonding.

Rodimus commed him back relatively quickly, and Megatron let himself smile at the tangible excitement in the words sent to him.

>Rodi: Absolutely!!!!

>Rodi: send me your coords. what’re we going for???

Megatron’s smile widened, and he sent the coordinates along with a simple “It’s a surprise.”

After all, a Rodimus motivated by the prospect of a surprise was a fun Rodimus.

—-

They made it to Brainstorm and Perceptor’s place in good time. Megatron had sent a politely worded comm ahead asking if they were available, but so far, he hadn’t received an answer.

Normally he wouldn’t be this pushy, but he was just  _ so  _ antsy even he couldn’t convince himself to wait. Plus, Rodimus’ excitement was contagious—the mech was bouncing on his heels next to him, spoiler twitching with delight.

Megatron made them wait a good five minutes before their second doorbell ring. There was still no answer, and they were about to give up when the door finally slid open a minute or two later to reveal Brainstorm standing there, smudges of soot on his mask, vents whirring from the exertion of running to the door.

“You…know…” He wheezed out. “It’s...considered polite to comm...first!”

“I did.” Megatron said, feeling a bit embarrassed. “But I didn’t wait for the answer.”

“And why  _ not _ ?” Brainstorm quipped, giving Megatron a very annoyed look.

Megatron shifted. “Well. Because...because, I, erm—”

“Because we’re here to buy interfacing toys!” Rodimus blurted out, obviously unable to stand the fumbling or the wait any longer.

Brainstorm reset his optics in surprise, and Megatron  _ groaned. _

—-

It took the threat of Rodimus speaking  _ for _ him that finally got Megatron to explain everything to Brainstorm. What he wanted, the general gist of why he wanted it, and that he wanted it  _ soon. _

Thankfully, Rodimus began poking everything in the room while pestering Perceptor with questions about what the objects were, giving Megatron some privacy to speak with Brainstorm.

“I’m hoping we didn’t disturb you, and I assure you, I’m coming merely as a paying customer. This will be a professional transaction.” Megatron finished, fingers drumming the side of his thigh with mild discomfort. This really was all so new—just  _ blatantly _ asking someone to make toys for you, not ordering them discreetly. “And if you’d really prefer, I can try and find someone else…”

Brainstorm stared at him for a moment, tension bubbling in the air—then startled Megatron with a servo firmly patting his arm.

“Customer, ex-co-captain, tentative acquaintances. I tried to kill you, you fucked up my life a bit, well, a lot, buuuut…”

Brainstorm gave a half-hearted shrug. “We’re both moving on, right? I’m happy now. I’m happier than I ever thought I’d be, despite it all. So...let’s not be so formal, yeah? I’d much rather talk about kink gear, to be honest. Plus.” He winked at Megatron. “My stuff is the best. No need to go elsewhere.”

Megatron felt like he could say a million things but the best answer he found was a simple nod. “I think that will work best.”

Brainstorm made a content noise, then turned around and headed back towards a door on their left, calling over his shoulder “Percy, I’ll be back!” Megatron heard Perceptor mumble some sort of reply, but his attention was currently focused on talking with Rodimus, so the warlord left them behind and followed Brainstorm into the building.

“Y’know, the amount of petplay material I’ve made would probably shock you. It’s not that uncommon of a request.” Brainstorm said, and gestured for Megatron to turn a corner with him. “I’m assuming everyone is using it as some kind of stand in for therapy, hah!” 

Brainstorm was leading Megatron through a hall and down some stairs. The warlord was thankful the house had relatively wide walls, most likely to accommodate Brainstorm’s broad wingspan. As they reached the bottom of the stairs, Brainstorm flung the door open with a shouted “Tada!”

Megatron’s jaw  _ fell. _

Lining the walls, in shelves and cases, were dozens of different kinds of gear. Collars and harnesses ranging from the size of a large jet to the tiniest of minibots. Some were built with extra straps for wings and kibble, while others were a bit simpler.

Valve jewelry lined a case with spike mods, which would slide over your own equipment and fit firmly into place with some kind of magnets, allowing for a snug fit and a new look. Some had odd sacks hanging below them, others were nubbed or ridged, one even had little bumpy spikes at the base. The jewelry next to it shimmered, and one piece in particular made Megatron’s mouth dry—a delicate crystal set that ended with a little birdcage meant to adorn your node.

He briefly imagined Starscream in it and had to manually deny a request for his cooling fans to activate.

“Check this out.” Brainstorm said from the other side of the room, snapping Megatron out of his stupor. “I know Starscream has those sharp talons but—eh? Eh? Maybe for your other two?”

He wiggled his fingers at Megatron and the warlord saw it—clawtips that magnetized smoothly to Brainstorm’s actual finger. He made a noise not fitting of the ex-leader of the Decepticons and Brainstorm  _ laughed. _

“So I’m realizing just how new this all is to you. Tell you what—you wanted custom collars, right? What’s your budget?”

Megatron remembered how to speak this time. “No budget. Obviously I don’t expect to pay billions, but I’m willing to get the best for my...pets.”

He wondered when the term would stop sounding so foreign.

Brainstorm clucked his tongue. “Then lemme strike you a deal. Buy two collars and get one free if you pay for me to whip you up a ‘starter kit.’ They’re not cheap, but not the priciest thing I offer because not only are they somewhat of a surprise, but you’re putting your trust in me to create the perfect selection of items for the pleasure of you and your pets.”

He gave Megatron finger guns, optics gleaming. “But really, they’re fun to make. What do you think?”

Megatron hesitated, then figured it might be for the best—he was in over his head here after all. Some guidance, even random, would be beyond useful. “Well...alright.”

“Love that answer!” Brainstorm practically sang, then pulled a datapad and holopen out of his subspace. “Go ahead and fill this out. And don’t worry—none of that info leaves the room. Patient-client confidentiality or whatever.”

In the back of his mind, Megatron recognized the issue with this metaphor, but it didn’t matter. He took the items offered and leaned against an unoccupied table, beginning to slowly fill the documents out.

“The more detail, the better.” Brainstorm offered in an attempt to be helpful, not realizing Megatron was truly overwhelmed. He checked off several boxes that seemed interesting—muzzles, huh?—but that was as far as he got before he realized he needed help.

Rodimus arrived in record time after he sent the comm, and whistled as he entered the room. “Wow.  _ Wow.  _ Any of this yours, Brainstorm?” He asked, no shame present.

Brainstorm winked. “Maybe...”

Before Rodimus could get distracted by the multiple leashes hanging from hooks on the wall, Megatron waved him over. Rodimus cast a longing look at a particular lead, but made his way to the warlord’s side.

“I want to look around.” He whined, and Megatron shook his head. 

“Behave, pet.” He muttered—and the way Rodimus suddenly stiffened didn’t go unnoticed. Megatron didn’t look his way—relishing in the opportunity to practice their new roles—and instead sent him a private comm.

>Megatron: If you stop squirming and help me with this, you can have a  _ small _ reward from this room.

>Megatron: Can you be a good boy, Rodimus?

Just those few sentences had far more of an effect than Megatron anticipated. Rodimus’ cheeks flushed and he stilled, vents stuttering before he managed to find his voice.

“...So how can I help?”

Megatron smirked. That went far better than expected. Maybe he really was starting to get the hang of this…

Hopefully.

—-

Several breems later, they finally managed to fill out the boxes on the questionnaire Brainstorm had provided them. Some were easier than others—such as frame type and choice of “pet.” List a few interests, sizes…

It started becoming difficult when roleplay specific questions became present. Rodimus filled some of his personal fantasies out, but most spaces were left blank, as the group hadn’t really even started yet.

Then came customizing the collars. Megatron refused to let Rodimus design his own because Megatron wanted to. The problem was, he was the worst out of their group at gifts.

Drift was the best, followed closely by Starscream. One was thoughtful, the other was emotionally stunted and communicated best when giving and receiving extravagant presents. Megatron thought back toStarscream first presenting him his fusion cannon—and then again, millions of years later, giving him a replica of the same one to replace it after the cannon’s unfortunate, boiling demise.

Rodimus was third best only because of his good intentions. Moneywise, he was hopeless. The hyperactive mech couldn’t keep a shanix in his subspace to save his life.

And Megatron? He had the money, but he was  _ rubbish _ at giving gifts. He didn’t usually like receiving them and that made it hard to take in what others wanted. As a result, Megatron found this task quite challenging, but he was determined to get it right.

He let Rodimus give him a few tips before shooing him off to pick his toy. By the time Rodimus returned, Megatron was finishing the last bit of written details about Drift’s collar.

Rolling his shoulders, he took a moment to lean back to see what Rodimus had picked. The mech in question held it up, looking beyond pleased.

It was a lovely pink and white vibrator, speckled with a dark red tip and decorated with small bumps for a pleasurable texture. Rodimus’ finger slid over the base and pressed—and it started buzzing.

“I cannot wait to use this.” Rodimus practically purred. “And when I’m done, I want to stuff it in Starscream.” His expression was deviously smug as he added, “He loves using toys after me.”

“I’m aware.” Megatron smirked, turning back to the paper. “Fetch Brainstorm, will you? I’m almost done.”

Handing the paper to Brainstorm was easy—what wasn’t easy was listening to Rodimus tell Brainstorm how he couldn’t  _ wait _ to use his new toy. And for Brainstorm to give Rodimus a rather detailed description of how best to use it and what settings  _ really  _ sent a tingle up your backstrut.

By the time he had paid Brainstorm, endured Rodimus cuddling up to his side the rest of the time, warm and sending naughty feelings through their bond—Megatron was more than charged up. They bid a hasty farewell to the two scientists and got home as quickly as possible.

And that’s how the day ended—with Megatron pinning Rodimus down on his back, pounding deep into that brightly colored, wet valve as that surprisingly powerful toy buzzed between them, and Rodimus  _ screaming  _ his name when he overloaded.

All in all, a very successful day.

—-

As luck would have it, everyone was home the day the package arrived. Megatron had been reading in his berth until Starscream had wedged himself under his arm, the faint smell of lab chemicals mixing with his polish. The odd smell was familiar, comforting, and Starscream was warm. He soon dozed off, datapad and servo rested on his chest as the seeker snuggled into his firm, comforting chassis.

Their nap came to an abrupt end, however, as Rodimus burst into the room with a package, yelling “It’s here, it’s  _ HERE! _ ”

Starscream pushed his face further into Megatron’s chest, seeking solace from the Prime’s excited cries. He let out a disgruntled noise when Megatron slowly pushed himself up, optics brightening.

“Call Drift in.” He told Rodimus, and as the mech rushed hurriedly to get their fourth companion, he began to open the box. Barely looking himself, he snatched the collars and leashes, which were wrapped for safe travel, and stuffed them into his subspace before Starscream could shake the sleep and nose over. Those were for later.

While waiting for Rodimus and Drift to return, Megatron had the pleasure of Starscream scootching over to lean his head against the bigger mech’s shoulder. Megatron used that as an excuse to kiss his helm while they waited—and then to grab Starscream and steal another kiss when his conjunx tried to impatiently snag the box. The seeker relented with a put-out noise, but allowed himself to be swept up into Megatron’s wandering lips.

He was nibbling Starscream’s neck, ready to leave a few more possessive bites on his cables when a low whistle had his optics fluttering up and Starscream tensing under his mouth.

Rodimus stood in the doorway with a small smirk, and Drift rounded the corner shaking his head at Rodimus’ peeping. 

“Geez, guys. We were only gone for like, a klik.” Rodimus teased, and Starscream jutted his lip out at him.

“Pervert.” Starscream spat, moving out of Megatron’s lap, but Rodimus neither took the bait or was deterred. He swung his arms around the seeker, smirk widening.

“I’m  _ your  _ pervert.” Rodimus purred, ignoring Starscream’s gag and kissing him on the cheek. Starscream shoved him away—only for his snarl to abort in a flustered burst of static as Rodimus took his servo and gave it a squeeze and a kiss. Starscream’s wings gave a little flutter, even with his face in a conflicted snarl. Several kisses peppered up his arm—and by the time Rodimus “Charming”’ Prime had reached Starscream’s lips, there was a ghost of a smile there.

Megatron had to accept that Rodimus somehow had just stolen his seeker away.

And despite his earlier excitement about the package, Rodimus was easily distracted—and the distraction for him now was in the form of a pretty red seeker, who was beginning to warm up to the attention. Rodimus’ petting was beginning to wander dangerously low when Drift took matters into his own servos. A gentle but firm kick of his pede against Rodimus’ leg had the other mech yelp, and Starscream glared indignantly at the swordmech.

“Yes, yes, I know.” Drift ignored the glare. “You’re both irresistible to each other. But you can fondle each other up at any other time. We all want to see what’s in the box, yeah?” 

Rodimus’ optics lit up as his enthusiasm came rushing back. “Right! The box! Okay, okay. Let’s open it.” He quickly smooched Starscream with a “love you” and scampered over to the box, leaving the seeker looking flustered beyond comprehension.

Finally, they all turned to Megatron, his large servos hovering over the flaps of the box.

“Ready?” He asked, voice calm even as his spark whirled in excitement. He knew they could feel it—because it was coming from their ends, too.

“Yes!” Came the excited chorus, even if Starscream’s was more high pitched grumble.

He flung open the box...and  _ oh. _

Brainstorm had really gone over and beyond on this ‘starter package.’

“Woah.” Rodimus was the first to speak, pulling out a white leash, made from some kind of cybertronian-enduring leather. “ _ Wooooah. _ ” He pulled out another leash--then a third--his optics wide in unadulterated excitement. “Holy shit, these are amazing!”

“I am  _ never _ wearing this.” Starscream proclaimed, holding up a muzzle dangling from his talons. 

Megatron decided not to say anything. For now. Instead he reached in and pulled out a bowl, decorated with little hearts. Hm. Next was a dildo, on the small side but with a knot at the very base. This, he thought with a pounding spark, would do nicely for some training play. The next few items—lubricant, thanks Brainstorm—a set of red, fuzzy handcuffs, blindfold, and a gag that looked like it could be inserted into the muzzle--these were all things he was relatively familiar with.

The odd little clamps (thank goodness, it looks like they came with instructions) were new, though. A quick glance at the manual and his optics flickered over the little turbines on Starscream’s chest--Drift’s finials, and Rodimus’ excitedly twitching spoiler.

Hmmm. He may have to order more of these.

Rodimus slid his servo into the box again and withdrew a small aft-plug. Attached to it was a long, slender and fuzzy white tail that ended with a splatter of red. The plug itself had several engravings in it that looked to be wireless ports. “This looks...wild.”

“Give me that.” Starscream snapped, grabbing at it as he shoved another plug at Rodimus, his cheeks a slight purple. “It’s obviously mine. This is yours.”

Rodimus took it, optics bright as he turned it over in his servos. The plug was the exact same but the tail was different. A medium sized tail with some fluff and a pointed end that was a beautiful gradient of oranges and reds. He stroked his fingers through the fluff, grin wide as anything.

“Brainstorm made these?” Drift questioned, carefully rooting around until he pulled out his own tail. Blue optics went wide as he took in the plug with the wolf tail attached to it—fluffy and wide, white tapering to black and a tip of red. “They’re beautiful”

“Well.” Megatron said, glancing into the box. Looks like they had emptied it. “He gave me a list and I customized some of the more important items. The rest he did himself—Rodimus did help a bit—”

“Why did  _ Rodimus _ get to help?” 

There it was. Even when presented with a box full of presents, Starscream was finding a way to let his jealousy dominate. Megatron resisted the urge to cycle his optics.

“You and Drift were out. Rodimus was available. This pettiness of yours is dampening an otherwise enjoyable moment, Starscream.”

“You could have waited. Maybe I wanted to be included.” Starscream ignored Megatron’s previous remark, stuffing his toy back into the box. Megatron was a little taken aback. Normally Starscream was placated by gifts, so why in the world was he giving them all so much trouble now? Rodimus was making a face at him, while Drift’s optics glanced back and forth between the seeker and the warlord.

“You can go next time.” Megatron generously offered, but was only met with Starscream pointing his nose up in the air and turning his face away. Rodimus went to open his mouth, but Drift subtly held up a hand. The Prime fell silent, but his lips were tight.

_ He wants attention.  _ Came the suddenly helpful voice over a private comm. Drift was looking right at Megatron.

Megatron thought back to earlier--of Starscream unprompted snuggling up to him in the berth, and about how busy the seeker had been. They hadn’t had many moments together, and Starscream had been working hard. So had Drift, but of course, Starscream didn’t handle it the way he did.

The room was painfully silent for a moment as Megatron took this all in--then he slowly reached into the box, pulling out the plug that belonged to Starscream. It didn’t get the seeker’s attention.

Then he spoke.

“If anything at all makes anyone in the room uncomfortable, we use the color system. Green—keep going. Yellow is for pausing. Red, stop immediately.”

That made all optics turn towards him. Even Starscream’s.

“If needed, you all have your individual safewords. However, in case anyone has forgotten someone else's, I think the color system works best.”

Rodimus slowly nodded, followed by Drift. Starscream just narrowed his eyes at him.

This was it. Megatron squared his shoulders--still on his knees, but raising himself as high as he could be.

“Starscream.” His voice was a low, firm rumble. “Come here.”

He saw the subtle changes in his seeker--the twitch of wings, the widening of optics. But Starscream was a stubborn mech. “No.” He spat.

“I said come here.” Megatron repeated. “If you don’t come here before I count to five...you’re welcome to leave the room and go sulk somewhere else.”

Perhaps he was being a little too mean. But the safeword was there, and Starscream was a mech unafraid of expressing his displeasure. Having the other two in the room added a bit of pressure to the situation, but Megatron decided that if Starscream couldn’t behave himself in front of the other  _ pets _ , he could take some time for himself and they would try again later.

“One.” He began. Starscream’s jaw dropped—face slowly flushing a deep purple—and he whispered a sharp “What are you—”

“Two.” Megatron said, slow but sure. Starscream began fidgeting, looking at Drift and Rodimus, as if they were going to help him. Drift just gestured at Megatron, and Rodimus followed suit. Starscream was on his own here.

“Three.” Megatron continued, optics never leaving Starscream. “Fo—”

“ _ Alright! _ ” Starscream hissed, and surprisingly quick, he crawled over to Megatron and knelt in front of him. Arms crossed, he looked up defiantly at the larger mech, refusing to be intimidated.

But Megatron didn’t want to intimidate. He slowly laid a servo on Starscream’s shoulder, ignoring his fidgeting, and began to rub it.

“There we go.” Megatron’s tone became a deep croon, his hand moving up to carefully rub at the beginning of Starscream’s wing. “That’s it. Thank you for coming over.”

Starscream opened his mouth, vocalizer making a useless noise as he stared up at Megatron, face absolutely burning now. The tension he held in his body was slowly melting away--and he slumped a little under Megatron’s massaging.

“That’s it. Relax. You deserve it.” Megatron murmured, and out of the corner of his optic, he saw Rodimus crawl into Drift’s lap, both of them watching the show. Starscream was practically melting into a puddle now—you could see all the stress draining from his frame.

It was the perfect opportunity for Megatron to slide another servo onto his hip, and begin to gently usher him into laying down. “Good. That’s it.” His servo fell from Starscream’s wing to slide over his chassis—briefly flicking a turbine to enjoy the soft flutter of optics and moan that came from it.

“Slag, Star. You’re ho—“ Rodimus cut himself off as Megatron raised a finger to his lips. This was a delicate process. His servo swept down Starscream’s side as he lowered the seeker fully onto his back, legs twitching as he stared up at Megatron, seemingly entranced by the bigger mech’s praise. Megatron stroked his thigh several times, feeling Starscream shudder beneath him as his legs began spreading slightly.

Megatron allowed himself a small smile, pleased at how well this was going. Starscream had gone from his little tantrum to a quivering, overheated frame on his back in a matter of minutes. Without taking his optics off the seeker, Megatron murmured “Drift, will you kick that bottle of lubricant this way?”

The swordmech nodded and shifted so his leg was free of Rodimus’, and nudged the bottle with the tip of his pede so it rolled towards Megatron. The warlord set it next to where he had placed the plug earlier, nodding a quick thanks at Drift. Then his attention was back at the squirming mech below him.

“Starscream.” His voice was back to that low croon, and he took his servo, cupping the seeker’s valve panel. It was warm, the interface array pulsing quickly beneath—and Megatron gave it a squeeze. “Be good, and open for me.”

Starscream’s panel snapped back so quickly that it almost clipped Megatron’s fingers. Beneath the panel, Starscream was beginning to leak—his vents quick and desperate, claws digging into the floor beneath him. Megatron’s engine purred at the sight.

“This is nice, isn’t it?” The warlord murmured, thumb swiping over Starscream’s node, making the jet let out a shuddering whimper. “I like when you’re well-behaved. There’s no need for jealousy when we could be doing so many other fun things instead.”

That comment was met with a weak grumble, and Megatron chuckled lightly. Still a bit of defiance. “Well, if you’re going to make that noise...I think it’s time you get a treat. Your behavior earlier normally wouldn’t earn you one, but I’m impressed by how obedient you’re being now. Such a good pet, Starscream.”

The seeker whimpered yet again, turning his optics away in humiliation. But his legs spread more, and Megatron knew what he wanted. But not yet.

“You haven’t earned  _ that _ .” He said, and withdrew his servos. Starscream made a startled noise, but Megatron quickly squashed any fear that he was going to leave. He grabbed one of the seeker’s slender legs and lifted it up—Starscream’s flexibility coming in handy as he hooked it over his shoulder. Spread out like that, he had a good view of that plump, leaking valve—and right behind it, the current target of Megatron’s attention: the little cap that covered Starscream’s aft port.

Still supporting Starscream’s leg, Megatron picked up the bottle of lube. It took a little bit of fumbling because he was only using one servo, but eventually, he popped open the lid and applied a generous glob of lubricant to his palm. He let the bottle drop, not caring about messes right now—not when Starscream was squirming underneath him, a flustered eagerness pulsing in his field and through their bond.

He glanced up at Drift and Rodimus and noticed they had shuffled a bit closer. Rodimus was still settled in Drift’s lap, and they were heavily petting each other—but their optics were fixated on what was happening with Starscream. Seeing his audience sent a wash of arousal and confidence through Megatron, and with sticky, eager fingers, he flipped open the little hatch to Starscream’s port.

The seeker tensed underneath him—but Megatron was anything but hasty. He took his time circling the tight little entrance, wetting the rim and watching with pulses of arousal as it clenched in anticipation. He dipped the very beginning of a finger in—rubbing Starscream’s leg comfortably as the seeker squirmed. It wasn’t until he felt a bit of tension ebb away from his conjunx’s frame that he slid his finger further in—stopping when Starscream made a weak grunt, just shallowly thrusting in and out—and finally, he managed to work the seeker up to a point where he could slide his finger deeper, brushing sensory clusters that had Starscream writhing underneath him.

“M-Megatron…” The seeker whined, optics shut tight and cheeks positively glowing with color as he let Megatron slowly work him open. Patiently, the warlord waited until the steady stream of grunts and snarls coming fromStarscream’s mouth began to slow before carefully adding another finger. Starscream bit his lip, but took it well--and Megatron told him as much, lightly scissoring as he whispered “Good. Very good, pet.”

Something wet dripped on the floor, and Megatron saw it was a small stream of lubricant dribbling down Starscream’s valve plating from where he’d had a small overload. Deciding the timing was perfect, Megatron took his fingers out and picked up the plug. The coolness of the metal felt nice on his warm, sticky fingers—and Starscream whimpered and whined until he was done smearing the plug with a liberal amount of lube.

Even though he had been prepped, pushing the plug into Starscream still needed to be done carefully. He could feel Drift and Rodimus’ heated stares, glued to the way Starscream’s little aft port hungrily swallowed the metal—and fans whirred loudly all around as Megatron pushed it to the hilt.

It was a fascinating sight—the long white tail hanging from Starscream’s aft. Starscream let out a low moan of satisfaction—and then they all started in surprise as the plug let out a sudden ‘beep’.

Megatron felt a flash of concern that something inside Starscream had been damaged—but then, the tail began to  _ move. _ Starscream let out a strangled noise, wringing his leg free and scrambling to crane over his back at his own aft. But his wings were in the way, and cursing, he tried to stand on wobbly legs, flinching. “W-what the—yellow. Yellow!” Megatron quickly pushed himself up, offering a hand for Starscream to support himself on.

Rodimus and Drift were staring, jaws practically on the floor—and finally, as Megatron held a flustered, confused Starscream up, Rodimus said “Why is it  _ moving _ ?”

“I don’t know!” Starscream snapped, the mood in the room quickly turning tense again—and he staggered over to the mirror, swinging his frame around to see the tail— _ bristling _ , and swinging in aggravation around his legs.

As Starscream twisted back and forth to get the best view, Megatron let go of him and made his way back over to the box. He rustled through the packaging--and there it was. A small instruction manual they had overlooked concerning the plug. The words  _ neural connection _ and  _ reacts to the user’s moods _ stuck out to him, and really, he shouldn’t have expected anything less from Brainstorm.

“These connect to your processor and react to how you’re feeling.” Megatron explained, and Rodimus went “ _ Cool! _ ” at the same time that Starscream sputtered out a flat “What.” There was a moment of silence—and then Drift burst out in sudden laughter.

“Oh, frag.” He chuckled, rubbing Rodimus’ back before gently sliding him off and standing up. He clapped his servos together with another laugh. “This is actually amazing. It’s like a whole new layer of roleplay. I love it.”

“It’s  _ weird. _ ” Starscream muttered, his tail slashing furiously back and forth. “I don’t need everyone knowing how I’m feeling every moment of the day.”

Drift covered his mouth to prevent another bout of laughter from escaping. “Starshine, don’t get mad again, but we can usually tell how you’re feeling.” He swept over to Starscream with Rodimus right on his heels, and even though Starscream was fretting, Drift gently slid a servo down his spinal strut, rubbing at the tip of his aft port. Starscream couldn’t help but shiver.

“If you don’t like it, we’ll take it back.” Drift whispered to him, and Megatron, who was still feeling a little stupid he hadn’t read the instructions, was grateful for the swordsmech attempting to calm Starscream down. He watched the seeker chew on his lip, glancing at the mirror in thought.

“...Green.” He said, and Drift chuckled. Rodimus couldn’t hold himself back any longer, and he grabbed at Starscream’s servos, pulling him to face him. Starscream, despite his agitation, was still a bit in a submissive headspace—and he let Rodimus pull him close and kiss at his face.

“Star, you looked so good back there. Really. I’m so hard.” He pushed his codpiece flush to Starscream’s valve, and Starscream let out a soft ‘mmph.’ And then an even softer “...I’m tired.”

He leaned against Rodimus, resting his head on his shoulder. “I’m horny, a little annoyed, but mainly I’m  _ tired. _ That was a lot.”

Megatron wondered if he meant the aft play, or the being obedient part.

Drift let out a soft hum. “I could rest as well. It’s been a busy week. Maybe we can take a nap, and then resume these activities later?”

Rodimus looked at a crossroads, but Megatron stepped in to make a decision. “A nap would do us all good, I think. Clear our processors, recover from the week—we have  _ plenty _ of time to explore this all.”

Rodimus let out a soft huff. “Fine. But I—”

Starscream cut him off with a short whisper in his audial. “I’m leaving the plug in, and I wouldn’t mind a little attention before I sleep, if you’re that worked up.” Rodimus’ optics flew open, and he glanced at Megatron.

Megatron’s spark quickened. Was Rodimus...asking  _ permission? _ Not with words, but still. A step forward.

“I don’t see why not. I think today was a good learning experience.”

Starscream snorted, wrapping his arms tight around Rodimus. “Don’t make it sound so boring.” Megatron didn’t reply, because Starscream was already distracting himself, pulling Rodimus to the bed, the Prime’s golden fingers wandering down to the seeker’s sopping wet valve.

Megatron felt rather accomplished, but despite the call of rest, he felt a little...unsatisfied. He wanted to try more. This was making him feel eager, young in his excitement.

A slender hand suddenly touched his chest, and he looked down to meet Drift’s optics.

“You know.” Drift’s voice had settled on that purr that made Megatron’s half-pressurized spike  _ throb.  _ “I hate to be impatient, but I wouldn’t mind trying my own plug before we sleep…”

Megatron felt his face break into a wide smile. That’s just what these mechs did to him. “That can be arranged.” He purred right back, swiping a thumb over Drift’s cheek. Primus, all three of his lovers were  _ beautiful. _ Drift’s optics alone…

Drift took his hand and tugged him towards the box, and they dove right into the act—the messy kisses and groans of their other two partners spurring them on as their own lips met, and Megatron sighed happily.

The collars were still in his subspace. He felt it wasn’t time yet—soon, but not yet. Today had been lovely, but these things took time. And they had all the time in the world.


End file.
